


Honey Whiskey

by TornWrites



Series: Svklance Shenanigans [1]
Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe (1984), Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Drinking, Drug Use, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11491779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TornWrites/pseuds/TornWrites
Summary: Lance had never been to a party before and after an experience like this, he doubted he'd want to go to another.Loosely based on the song Honey Whiskey by Nothing but Thieves





	Honey Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Changed this from a one chapter fic to a multiple chapter one!

Lance had never been one to party before he joined the Garrison, where, ironically, he would be expelled if he was caught drunk on campus. It’s not that he’d never been invited to one, but he simply had no interest in it. What’s the point of a party if everyone gets drunk and won’t remember it? Why drink if the only point was to get drunk?

It wasn’t until he was at the party Hunk had told him about that he finally understood.  
The party was held by some students from the local college, no where near the Garrison. It felt weird to be able to wear his normal clothes during the school year; his usual turtleneck made his skin itch from not wearing it as often as he used to, but he couldn’t take it off since he decided it was too warm to wear anything underneath. Why he didn’t just wear a shirt and jacket was beyond him, except for the fact what he was wearing was _fashionable_ and a shirt and jacket would be less so. 

When he first got there, he decided he wouldn’t drink. He would keep an eye out for Hunk and make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. Getting drunk just wasn’t him.  
He sat on the sofa, next to a girl who had already passed out despite the party starting a mere hour ago. He carefully shifted her onto her side, making sure she wouldn’t choke on any vomit that decided to come back up, before looking over the party. 

Somewhere between the smoke that spread itself across the room like a grey blanket that made his head feel funny and losing Hunk in the crowd, Lance found he had been given a plastic cup filled with a drink. He wasn’t sure what it was, but by the smell alone he could tell it was alcoholic.  
With each sip he found that it was sweet. Sweeter. _Sweeter._ The taste was stuck too his teeth, but soon he found the smell matched the wet stain near the girl’s head, where she held an empty bottle labelled ‘Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey’. Honey whiskey, of course. 

It wasn’t enough to sway him to put the drink down, that only happened when the cup was empty. The red solo cup soon had friends, more than Lance’s dizzy brain could count. Not all of the drinks had been the same, which he decided was his downfall. (He could hear his brother’s voice somewhere in the back of his mind telling him to never mix his drinks, but that was lost when someone handed him a cup filled with a mix of everything they had, and told him to chug it.)

He decided that was the point he fucked up and led to every other mistake he made that night. 

A man he didn’t recognise sat to his left, he recognised the fact that what was perched between his lips wasn’t your typical rolled up cigarette, and shifted awkwardly away in an attempt to escape. He seemed dangerous, yet somehow still managed to lure him in.  
His hair was black, and was long enough to be tied in a pony tail and still reach the bottom of his neck. He would have confused him for being feminine if it wasn’t for the way the leather of his outfit managed to hug him-  
He backtracked a little. The man was wearing a jumpsuit, a leather jumpsuit, as if he had come to this party on his way back from a motorcycle race.  
He hoped he was wearing it because the stranger actually owned a motorbike, and not because he liked the outfit. 

Lance hadn’t noticed he had been staring until he had smoke blown into his face. He coughed weakly as the man chuckled softly.  
“You want some?”  
Lance eyed the joint being held out to him, before taking it and setting it between his own lips. He’d smoked before- not weed- so he didn’t choke on the smoke as it swelled in his lungs or as he allowed it to flow out of his mouth. He handed back the joint, unable to help the quiet giggle at the passing thought of this being like an indirect kiss.  
It was that thought that made him briefly consider that maybe he should head home before he does something he wouldn’t do sober. 

It was definitely a brief thought, as he and the mystery man next to him sat in silence for approximately ten minutes, simply passing the joint back and forth, adding to the thick cloud of smoke that surrounded everyone in the room. He was surprised no one had decided to open a window yet.  
The silence only stopped when the joint was put out and Lance picked up his drink again. 

“How can people be so sure that they’re straight?” He asked, feeling as though his words dripped from his lips without him realising, out in the air without a way to bring them back. He tucked his teeth under the rim of his plastic and let his eyes trail over the party- where everyone seemed to be either drunkenly dancing, grinding or sat in circles on the floor with their own joints- before they landed back on the man beside him.  
He offered a shrug, pulling out a bottle that Lance didn’t notice he had and taking a sip from it. “Some people aren’t.” He offered, his own dark eyes roaming over to meet his. “If you’re talking about _you_ , maybe you should just try, y’know, experimenting.”

Lance couldn’t help the scoff, his eyes drifting away again as he wondered in the back of his mind where the heck Hunk had ran off to. “I go to the Galaxy Garrison, stuff like that can get you kicked out.” He mumbled, his eyebrows furrowed as he considered how stupid that rule truly was. Just because someone wasn’t straight didn’t mean they were incapable of operating a spacecraft. Right?  
He didn’t think he would get his answer, considering that particular rule. 

“Who’s going to tell them?” The man asked, eyebrows raised up in question all the way up and under his hair. 

 

Lance vaguely remembered staring up at the man, but how they ended up locked in the only bathroom together was beyond him.

“We could have gone to my place.” The man mumbled into his neck, as Lance awkwardly tried to shuffle so the sink wasn’t digging into his back.  
“I came with a friend.”

Their lips met sloppily; Lance briefly thought he heard the man softly tell him, “well, now you’re coming with me,” before deciding that no, after their conversation before he doubted the male stood in front of him would stoop to an innuendo. Though, then he remembered that they were making out in a bathroom, and his standards for his man’s humour suddenly dropped.  
There was also the case of how much they had drank, which Lance couldn’t be sure for either them. To say the least, Lance was beginning to think the man had in fact stooped so low to use an innuendo on him. 

His own hands had planted themselves on the chest he had admired before, which he had found bare under his touch. The man’s finger tips seemed to dance against the skin he had hidden away under the turtleneck, and the feeling made him arch forward and further into his grip.  
He chased the lips as they pulled away, before sliding his eyes open to stare into the dark irises in front of him.  
“Keith.” The man mumbled, which made Lance’s eyebrows furrow. His name wasn’t Keith? 

Oh wait. That was the man’s name.  
“Lance.” He supplied in return, before their lips forcefully met again.

 

-

 

Lance woke up with a groan. His head was pounding. The room was spinning. He felt like he was going to be sick.  
He realised the spinning was actually shaking when he opened his eyes, and was met with a frantic Hunk. 

“We’re late! It’s eleven in the morning!” He practically screamed, already lifting Lance to his feet again so they could hurry their way back to the Garrison. He felt his face pale from nausea before he processed what was said to him.  
Lance eyes widened comically, before scrambling to look a little more put together and tried to follow Hunk’s running form out of the house. 

Roll call happened at exactly six in the morning, and Lance knew the plan was to leave at around four so they could make it back on time so no one would know where they had been. It worked well in theory, but Lance didn’t take into account that he would have gotten drunk too, and forgot about the alarm he needed to set. 

As he ran, he began to feel pain in his hips. It reminded him of how his night truly ended, and made red flush onto his still pale cheeks. He didn’t think he’d be able to make it back without vomiting, but soon found he was wrong, when they both ran past the Galaxy Garrison sign.  
They were immediately met with one of the commanding officers, both boys panting heavily from running across town. Lance was barely listening to the lecture they were receiving, focusing on keeping everything down, but as he felt the burning creep up his throat, he realised all his attempts were futile.

They might have received a less severe punishment if Lance hadn’t suddenly doubled over and let himself vomit all over the three pairs of shoes. At least he was only caught hungover, he couldn’t get expelled for _that._ Right?

 

That led them to where Lance could clearly remember again, without the blurred edges and missing details of when he was drunk or hungover. He and Hunk were stood at attention in the training field, both sweating horribly from the absurd amount of push ups, jumping jacks, pretty much every possible exercise they regularly did (in moderation, the amount they just did was ridiculous and possibly life threatening if they didn’t get any liquids in them soon). This was the punishment for a first offence, Lance dreaded to think what happened to those on their second or third.

The higher ranked soldier in front of them looked away and off to the side, before feeling his lips quirk up in a smirk. 

“Since you pair can’t be trusted to share a room anymore, I’d like you both to meet your new roommates.”

Lance looked over, and his jaw immediately went slack as he watched two people walk over, one of which he recognised instantly. 

“McClain, this is Cadet Keith Kogane, you two will be sharing a room together from now on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr!](tornsart)


End file.
